


Something Different, Something New

by silentdescant



Series: Snapshots [35]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Bondage, Bottoming from the Top, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Role Reversal, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 10:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8441422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: Mitch swings his leg over Scott’s waist and Scott reaches for him automatically, forgetting for a moment that he can’t move his arms. His wrists pull at the cuffs, rattling the chain binding him to the headboard. Mitch looks entirely too smug about this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> KINKtober Day 31: anything I want! I chose role reversal, inspired by them dressing up as each other earlier this month. This is the last part of this series, and I hope you enjoy it! Thank you all for sticking with me all month. I have more stories in the works, hopefully to be finished soon, but I'm going to miss posting and talking to you guys every day! <3

Mitch swings his leg over Scott’s waist and Scott reaches for him automatically, forgetting for a moment that he can’t move his arms. His wrists pull at the cuffs, rattling the chain binding him to the headboard. Mitch looks entirely too smug about this.

He grins down at Scott, arching his back so all Scott can see is Mitch’s long, lean torso, stretched taut and tantalizingly out of reach. Mitch’s cock hangs at attention a few inches from Scott’s face, so close and yet so far. Scott can smell him, smell his sweat and his cologne, the musk of his arousal. His mouth waters with the desire to taste him too.

“Come on,” he says. “It’s not fair.”

Scott’s not used to being denied like this. He’s not sure he likes it, and it makes him rethink all the times he’s teased Mitch this way. Now the tables have turned and Scott’s already driven to desperation. He’s not used to the cuffs, either. Not used to the way they grant him enough mobility to try but not enough to succeed. It’s frustrating and all Scott wants right now is to grab Mitch closer and suck his cock.

“Who ever said this was supposed to be fair?” Mitch asks. 

It serves Scott right, to be honest. The number of times he’s teased and denied Mitch, he really should’ve seen this coming.

Mitch touches himself lazily, jacking his cock and spreading around the precome beaded at the head. He’s almost close enough to taste, and Scott strains toward him with his mouth open, but Mitch just taps his cock against Scott’s cheek and shifts backward, out of reach. He does this several times, thrusts his hips forward and moves quickly back out of the way, until Scott’s groaning and clenching his fists in frustration.

Finally, Mitch shuffles forward and aims his cock down, pushes it between Scott’s waiting lips. Scott sucks him down eagerly, as deep as Mitch will allow, but it only lasts for a few moments before Mitch pulls back.

It’s time for the main event, Scott assumes, and his dick leaps to attention at the thought of Mitch riding him, sitting on his cock and rolling his hips, controlling the pace, controlling everything while Scott strains to touch him. He’s leaking precome at the mental image, close to his vision whiting out, he wants it so desperately. So it surprises him when Mitch climbs off of him.

“What?” Scott asks breathlessly. He watches Mitch pull their bottle of lube off the nightstand, stares at him as he circles around to the foot of the bed and wedges Scott’s knees apart, perches in between them.

Mitch stares back at him. His expression is tense and hard to read; Scott can tell he’s hesitant about this. Maybe even worried about how Scott will react. But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask with words. He just waits, poised with the lube in his hand, for Scott to say it’s okay.

It’s more than okay. Scott nods quickly and whispers, “Yes, do it.”

Mitch immediately covers his fingers in the lube and brings them down to Scott’s ass. He circles his thumb around Scott’s hole, teasing again, or maybe just testing, because it takes Scott a few breaths to relax. It’s been so long since he’s bottomed, he has to force his body to remember.

“I’m ready,” Scott finally says, to spur Mitch into action.

It’s as if Mitch was waiting for Scott to say so. He pushes one finger in, careful and slow. Scott lets out a long sigh and Mitch starts thrusting his finger in and out. He’s so slick with lube that his finger slides easily. Scott’s sure Mitch isn’t intending to tease him now; Mitch is taking his time because he’s considerate, because he knows how long it’s been for Scott, but Scott just wants _more_.

“Another,” Scott says. “Harder.”

Mitch slips a second finger alongside the first. Scott barely feels the stretch, but Mitch eyes him warily, like he’s expecting it to hurt. It doesn’t make sense, because Mitch is used to bottoming, he should understand how easy it is to crave more, rougher, deeper.

“More. Come on, I can take it.”

The worry disappears from Mitch’s face and he twists his hand, pushes a third finger inside. He twists again, stretching Scott, preparing him, and he doesn’t seem to be in a hurry.

“I’m ready,” Scott tells him. “Do it now. Come on.”

He realizes too late that he’s been taking too much control. It’s second nature to him to direct Mitch this way, to tell him how much, how hard. Scott swallows back another command and closes his eyes briefly. What would Mitch do in his place? What does Mitch always do, when he’s restrained and strung out on Scott’s prolonged teases? Mitch begs.

“Please,” Scott whispers. “Please, fuck me now, Mitchy. I need you, please.”

Mitch responds beautifully, and Scott can’t help but feel a little manipulative as he watches Mitch close his eyes and bite his lip, and sigh, looking like he’s close to coming already. It’s how he looks when Scott talks dirty to him, sometimes. Beautiful and overwhelmed. Scott wants Mitch to have this. To have him like this.

“Yes, please, come on, fuck me, please…”

Mitch replaces his fingers with his dick, barely waits more than a few seconds before pushing in. Scott is more than stretched enough, more than slick enough, but the feeling of Mitch thrusting into him still takes him by surprise, leaves him breathless. He yanks at the cuffs, wanting to touch himself, wanting to touch Mitch.

“Good?” Mitch asks.

“So good, baby, so fucking good,” Scott replies.

Scott wishes he could stroke his cock right now. It _hurts_ not to; he’s so turned on by Mitch, fucking him in earnest now. He stares up at Mitch, transfixed by the way Mitch tosses his head back as he thrusts his hips. It’s the same thing Mitch does when Scott is fucking him, when Scott is teasing him, and to see it now, in this situation…

Mitch reaches down with both hands, clings to Scott’s thighs. His nails dig in, scratch, slip against sweaty skin. Finally, finally, he reaches for Scott’s cock and jacks him quickly. Scott moans, a ragged sound ripped from his throat. He’s torn between rocking back into Mitch’s thrusts and pushing his cock up into Mitch’s fist. He wants to come, he wants to come so badly.

“Harder,” he gasps, “harder, please,” and Mitch’s expression twists, his eyes screwed shut, his jaw dropped open. He’s close, Scott knows. He looks so… submissive, even like this. Even as he’s fucking Scott, even as he’s the one in charge. Scott feels him holding back, feels him waiting. Listening. Obeying.

It’s that thought, that realization that makes Scott come. He jerks against the chain that ties him to the bed, straining with his entire body as he feels his come splatter across his belly, all the way up to his chest.

“Come on, baby, you can come now,” he whispers. He barely has time to get the words out before Mitch follows, coming with a choked-off whine.

Scott can see the energy drain from Mitch’s body. His limbs are loose and weak, and he sways forward, barely catching himself on his hands before lying flat on top of Scott’s body. His cock slips free, and Scott feels the void in a way he can’t remember ever feeling before. He’s empty without Mitch—is this how Mitch feels all the way, when they fuck?

He shifts his shoulders, trying to find a comfortable position with his arms locked up above his head, but Mitch reaches up and pops the latch open on each of the cuffs. Scott immediately envelops him in a bear hug, and Mitch turns his head to rest his cheek against Scott’s neck.

“Was it okay?” Mitch whispers.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” Scott replies.

Scott wants to drink in this feeling, this situation and how they’re positioned, how warm Mitch is on top of him, how heavily they’re both breathing. He wants to memorize every second and the shape of Mitch’s body in his arms. He already wants to do this again. Sometime. This isn’t normal, this isn’t their usual thing, and Scott doesn’t want it to be, but it was perfect for them, perfect for tonight, and Scott wants to treasure this moment forever.

 

 _fin_.


End file.
